I'll soon fix that
by thetravelinglemon
Summary: This story is because Martin has a rubbish life and nothing good ever happens to him - cue Irene Adler. Started off as only a short drabble, ended up a longer story with some angst. Rating for sexual references and later events which I'm not revealing yet! Because the chapters are very long, updates aren't frequent - sorry!
1. Let's Have Dinner

Martin had had a long day. He'd had a flight with a more-than-usually annoying Douglas, followed by a van job for a grumpy old man, followed by another van job for a rather rude woman. Now he was coming home to his rented attic for a dinner of pasta, before sleeping so he could fly a plane without being paid for it the next morning. He wasn't in the best of moods, and so can be forgiven for not noticing someone was in his room until he actually saw her sitting on his bed.

He blinked twice, confused. There hadn't been a woman here when he'd left – of that he was sure. Who, then, was this, and why was she here?

She smirked at him, eyes roaming over his body, clearly liking what she saw, and making him blush.

She stood up and walked over to him. She held out her hand for him to shake.

"Irene Adler." she purred. Martin awkwardly took her hand, trying to remember if he knew anyone by that name.

"M-Martin Crieff." Her amusement was plain in her eyes as she examined his face.

"Pleased to meet you Martin... very pleased indeed." He glanced away.

"You're very beautiful. Oh g- ... did I just say that out loud? I'm so sorry I didn't mean it in that way well I did but I wasn't hitting on you or anything oh bloody hell." He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, meaning he was very surprised when he felt soft fingers stroking his neck. His eyes snapped open and he looked down at Irene in surprise. She was examining his face as her fingers moved up to his hair.

"Hmmmm, I'm not sure whether I prefer it dark or auburn – they're both irresistible in very different ways." If he was honest with himself, Martin wasn't really listening; he was too busy leaning into the touch and letting those talented fingers roam through his hair. Therefore, when he considered the whole course of events later, he felt that the response he gave was justifiable.

"Mmmmehmmmmnummeh." She raised her eyebrows and Martin awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Do you have a girlfriend Martin?"

"No! Oh sorry didn't mean to shout, urm, no." Irene smirked.

"Boyfriend?" Martin managed to choke on air, before gasping a response in the negative.

Irene smiled and leant forward to place a kiss on his cheek, which had Martin blushing again. He barely knew this woman, but he hadn't had a girlfriend for two years, and had already fully displayed his social awkwardness to Irene, which she had viewed with amusement, rather than disappointment or distain. Martin was still confused, but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth, so when Irene kissed his lips he kissed back enthusiastically.

Irene pulled away far too soon for Martin's liking, but she did so in order to speak:

"Let's have dinner." Martin blinked once before responding.

"Are you asking me out on a date? I mean urm oh yes of course you are..." Irene had a placed a finger over his lips, silencing him, so that he could only nod in response. She smirked.

"You're more naive than him. Don't worry – I'll soon fix that." She kissed him again, while working off his jacket and starting to undo the buttons of his shirt. Martin kept to his maxim of not looking the gift horse in the mouth, so didn't protest once.


	2. Irene

Beep beep beep beep. Martin slammed his hand down on his alarm clock to shut it up. He was so tired but he needed to get up... Oh. He tried to sit up, but couldn't, due to a warm and very naked female body wrapped around his. He frowned; he didn't have a girlfriend and wasn't in the habit of having one night stands, so what was going on? He paused for a moment before remembering last night; Irene.

Martin frowned – how was he meant to get up with Irene attached to him? How do people normally deal with this situation? He thought for a moment before tapping her gently on the arm. She didn't respond, and when he tapped her again she just snuggled closer.

"Irene." Nothing. "Irene." A little louder this time; still nothing. Martin coughed awkwardly and began to peel her off him. _That_ woke her up.

Irene frowned and sat up. Martin clearly wanted to get up, but from his expression he was already distracted from that aim.

"Morning darling." She purred.

"Urm, morning Irene. I, urm, need to, urm, get to work." Every 'urm' betrayed how distracted Martin was by her body, making Irene smile. She leant forward to kiss him before pulling away and sitting back to let him get out of bed. He stared at her briefly before getting up, wrapping his dressing gown around him, and awkwardly escaping the room.

Irene stretched before standing up and examining Martin's uniform. She knew he was the unpaid captain of MJN Air, in fact, she knew almost everything about him; she'd investigated (technically stalked) him for two weeks before planning the visit.

Irene picked up his cap and tried it on, while considering how she'd ended up in this position.

She'd stayed away long enough for it to now be safe for her to use her real name (instead of a fake identity)., which made her feel more comfortable than she had in a while.

She was over Sherlock; she'd been attracted to his appearance and his brain. He was dead now (she'd felt a twinge of pity when she'd thought of John), but when she'd caught a glimpse of his look-a-like in the airport, her curiosity had been piqued. After following him for a week, she was satisfied that he was worth meeting and had planned to meet him.

Irene smiled; she was glad she'd decided to meet Martin.

Martin came back into the room, his hair dripping down his neck, and stopped short when he saw Irene, completely naked, admiring how she looked when wearing his hat. He was never going to see the hat in the same way again.

Without saying anything, Irene smile, turned, handed him his cap, took his dressing gown from him, wrapped it around herself and left the room.

Martin sighed happily and quickly dressed. Something interesting was finally happening in his life and he was determined to enjoy it enough to create happy memories for when his life returned to mundane.


	3. Captain Casanova

**Just a quick note of thanks to all the people who've read this fic, especially the very lovely people that have added it to their story alerts/favourites. I thought only my fiancé would read this so you pleasantly surprised me. Reviews, prompts etc are all welcome. Thank you, and on with the chapter.**

* * *

Martin was his usual early self; waiting outside the plane for Carolyn to come with the key. After waiting about half an hour (yes, he was that early), he saw Arthur walking towards him from the airport.

"Hello Skip. Mum's filling out some paperwork and said to bring you the key." There was a moments pause as Martin waited for Arthur to give him the key.

"So are you actually going to give me the key?"

"Oh sorry yes, how silly of me." Arthur pulled it from his pocket and handed it to Martin while he continued to speak. "Martin, did you hurt your neck this morning?" Martin's hand instinctively went to his neck.

"No, no I didn't. Why?"

"Just that you've got a funny sort of bruise thing and I wondered if you were okay." Martin frowned, then sighed as he realised Irene must have given him a love bite. Brilliant (as Arthur would normally say, though he wouldn't say it sarcastically) – now Douglas and Carolyn had ammunition for their sarcastic remarks, which would probably continue for the whole of the flight.

"No, it's urm, nothing, I'm urm fine." Martin hastily turned and entered G-ERTI before Arthur could pursue the subject.

...

Neither Douglas nor Carolyn had said anything about the love bite – they'd settled for giving him funny looks instead. Until, that is, Douglas said his usual line:

"Post take-off checks complete Captain." Then sat back in his chair to gaze at Martin. "So, Martin, I take it that you found the love of your life last night."

"Urm well urm I wouldn't quite urm put it that way, Douglas."

"And think of all the lovely ladies who'll be disappointed that Captain Crieff is no longer available."

"Well I urm.."

"Coffee chaps." Arthur entered, carrying two steaming mugs (though it may not have been nice and it may not have been coffee, it _was_ hot this time), followed by Carolyn. Martin and Douglas accepted the mugs but didn't say anything.

"I hope my two pilots haven't argued, but if they have they'll be provided with lots of support throughout this 'very difficult time'." Carolyn paused "However, none of that support will be provided by me. Now if you'll just..."

"Captain Casanova was telling me about his latest love affair." Douglas interrupted.

"His _what_?" Carolyn was shocked. Arthur, however, was just as cheery as ever.

"Aww that's brilliant Skip. What's her name?" Martin sighed in exasperation before answering.

"Her name is Irene, she introduced herself when we met near my house, she's about 5 years older than me, she has dark hair and is rather controlling. I think I've answered all your questions. Thank you now please leave."

For once Carolyn did as Martin said.


	4. Changes

**This is just a filler so you can see how Irene changes Martin over time. And how Martin changes Irene I suppose. More to come in the following chapters though!**

Carolyn and Douglas were both confused, which, to be honest, doesn't happen very often. Normally the only person able to confuse them is Arthur, and he can only do so by doing or saying something so completely illogical that they have to ask him what he means.

Neither of them ever expected Martin to be the source of their confusion. Since Martin met Irene (and they both attribute the changes to her), he somehow gained confidence in himself as a person and as a pilot. In the three months since Martin and Irene first met, Martin asked Carolyn for a pay rise once a month. Asked, not begged.

He also became adamant about days off; if he had plans with Irene, he refused to take an extra job Carolyn threw upon them. They could tell if Irene was away because Martin reverted to his usual awkward unconfident self.

More often than not Martin came into work with a love bite (meaning that Carolyn and Douglas had to briefly explain to Arthur that they were not simply bruises), and one day he came in looking very shocked; so shocked, Douglas had to take over as captain while Martin tried to get over whatever new information his brain was failing to cope with. The information was, of course, Irene's profession.

Martin was initially very shocked, even horrified, when Irene told him she was a professional dominatrix, but when he thought about it, he realised how gentle she was with him, something Irene herself hadn't even realised yet. Although possessive and controlling, she seemed continually concerned for his pleasure and happiness. Which is why, after revealing her profession to him, she asked him to move in with her. Martin had agreed to call or text her (on his new phone – a present from Irene) when they arrived at Copenhagen to tell her his decision – she'd said that if he let her know, she could have everything moved and sorted in time for when he returned.

Irene was surprised by how much she missed Martin when he was away, probably because she hadn't really expected to miss him at all. It was new to her, how concerned he was to please her and make her happy. She didn't quite know how to respond, so she did her best to act in a similar way. She asked him to move in with her because she knew Martin was unhappy living in an attic. She arranged for him to spend a day with an experienced pilot (a previous client of hers, of course) so he could boost his confidence and skills (though she hadn't told him yet – she wanted it to be a surprise). She bought him new clothes and had his uniform cleaned so he could take more pride in his appearance. She took him out to dinner frequently in order to make sure he was actually eating enough.

Irene was also spending the time while Martin was away drafting an extensive letter to Carolyn Knapp-Shappey.


	5. Cabin Games

**And I managed to get engrossed in my own story so am starting this chapter only a few hours after publishing the previous one. I would like to thank Wikipedia and Google for their endless supply of accessible knowledge. To clear up any confusion – italics are texts. Onwards and upwards!**

_Am in Copenhagen and chcked into hotel. Missign you. Martin xx_

Martin looked at the text he'd just sent, and frowned at the typos. He was about to compose another text when he received a reply.

_Missing you too darling. How was the flight? Irene xx_

_Flight was good – Douglas was well behaved._ Martin sighed then added. _I'd like to move in with you. Martin xx _Then he sent the text.

_Kate will organise moving your belongings and I'll have a chat with your landlord. Everything will be sorted by the time you come home. Irene xx_

Martin smiled hesitantly and pocketed his phone. He surprised himself by looking forward to returning home.

...

Douglas had been curious about Irene from the start, but right now he was too busy being annoyed with Martin. Martin had beaten him in a word game. Douglas had actually _lost._

When naming famous people (real and fictional) named John, Douglas had been proud of himself when he had rattled off 'John the Baptist, John Watson, King John, John Barrowman and Little John', before Martin had even drawn breath. Normally Martin would be stumped. Instead, he paused, took a deep breath and said 'Apostle John, Pope John – I think there were twenty something of them, John of Antioch, John Finnemore, John Adams, John Terry and John Arbuckle'.

Martin had smirked and Douglas had sat in stunned silence until Arthur brought the coffee.

Ten minutes later, Arthur proposed another game – to list as many extinct animals as they could. Confidant that the previous game had been a fluke, Douglas agreed and bet Martin £20 that he could name more. After only a brief hesitation, Martin agreed.

Arthur was allowed to go first, since the only ones he could think of were 'dodo and woolly mammoth'. Then the real game began.

"Sabre-toothed tiger, north-African elephant, Syrian elephant" began Martin

"Chinese river dolphin, dinosaurs" continued Douglas

"You have to name them – you can't just have 'dinosaurs'."

"If you insist – tyrannosaurus, triceratops."

"Plateosaurus, stegosaurus."

"Blue pigeon and bluebuck."

"As fascinating as this is, you will be able to add Douglas Richardson and Martin Crieff to the list of extinct animals if you don't shut up now." The three men jumped – they hadn't noticed Carolyn come into the flight deck.

"But mum, Skip's brilliant at this – he's level with Douglas."

"Funnily enough I couldn't care less... hang on, did you say Martin is level with Douglas?"

"Yes, rather odd that isn't it?" replied Douglas

"Laughing owl"

"I beg your pardon Martin?"

"Laughing owls are extinct too."

"Good Grief he's actually beaten Douglas." Carolyn was shocked.

"For the second time this morning isn't it Douglas?" Martin smirked and held out his hand for the £20, which Douglas grudgingly handed over. "Thank you."

"Oh well done Skip!"

"Thank you Arthur. Since my luck seems to be running high today _I'll _land G-ERTI."

"Whatever _Sir _commands."

**This chapter was going to continue but when I reached a word count of 1000 I decided I should split the chapter. It means I can post this part sooner though.**

**Also – yay for people called John.**


	6. Brilliant

**Here's what I meant to write in the previous chapter but got sidetracked by letting Martin have a moment of glory by beating Douglas – a comic interlude. On with the actual plot now! And thanks for reading/reviewing – please continue to do so!**

The cabin crew left the airfield together, walking across the car park to Carolyn's car, since she'd agreed to give Martin and Douglas a lift part way.

"Arthur, keys."

"You've got them mum."

"No I haven't. You left them in G-ERTI again didn't you?"

Arthur hung his head and mumbled an apology as Carolyn sighed and left to find the keys.

Martin was only vaguely paying attention to this and, as he briefly turned round to survey the car park, his eye caught on someone familiar.

"Irene!" Martin grinned and immediately made his way over to her. Irene was sitting in an open top dark red (and very expensive looking) car. Although she had been sitting in the driver's seat, her feet now rested on the seat while she sat on the top of it, displaying her legs for every passer-by to stare at. For once Martin wasn't the one looking on with jealousy; he was the man people were envying, and oh did he enjoy that.

"Hello darling, thought I'd come and pick you up since you haven't been to my house before." Martin grinned and kissed her, before turning round to see Arthur grinning and Douglas gaping from beside Carolyn's car. Arthur immediately bounded over and Douglas followed, albeit a bit slower.

Martin helped Irene from the car, grateful that she was shorter than him so Douglas wouldn't laugh, and slipped his arm round her waist as Arthur arrived.

"Are you Irene? Aww this is brilliant, Skip talks about you a lot and I think you're brilliant...and your car too." Irene held out her hand for Arthur to shake, smiling

"Arthur?" Arthur nodded "Pleased to meet you, Martin talks about you often."

"Oh I hope it's good things he says about me."

"Arthur there is a limited list of good things about you, so it's unlikely Martin talked about you much if he only said good things." Arthur looked upset by Douglas' comment and Irene frowned at him while holding out her hand.

"Douglas I presume? Martin's mentioned you as well." Douglas shook her hand

"Pleased to meet you Irene. Like Arthur, I hope that all Martin said about me has been positive."

Irene raised her eyebrows. "To be honest Douglas, I wasn't aware that you had many positive points." Douglas frowned; women normally liked him and avoided Martin – what was wrong with the world today? Irene smiled then turned to Martin. "We should get going now."

"Right, yes of course." Martin opened the door for Irene, then walked round and got in the passenger seat. "See you on Tuesday."

"Bye Skipper, see you then." Arthur replied cheerily.

Irene glanced towards where she had just seen Carolyn re-enter the car park and drove away before Carolyn could see them. Irene had other plans for her first meeting with Martin's boss.


	7. Moving House

**Thank you to everyone who's been reading and reviewing. Sorry there isn't much plot/excitement/humour at the moment – that is due in the next few chapters where all will be revealed. Since Fitton isn't actually a real place, I've relied on someone-else's intelligence and tumblr page to place Fitton in between Coventry, Birmingham and Stratford-Upon-Avon. For Irene's house I actually searched on Rightmove and found some expensive and pretty houses on Kenilworth Road in Coventry.**

Irene parked the car in the driveway and got out, before glancing back at Martin, who was gawping at the massive house before him. He'd never been used to having much money or a big house recently or when he was young.

"Martin?"

"Oh right, yes, sorry." Martin got out the car and slowly followed Irene down the gravel pathway towards the house.

"What do you think?" Martin was speechless, so Irene continued. "I own a house in London and New York too. But when I met you I went house hunting in Fitton area and found this place so decided to buy it." She walked towards the house and Martin followed.

Irene took off her coat before showing Martin round the four bedroom house, then settling down in the living room and pouring Martin and herself a cup of tea. Without thinking, Martin blurted out the first thing that came into his head.

"Are you rich? I mean, I knew you were rich, but not this rich – how rich are you? That sounded terrible didn't it? Sorry." Irene merely raised an eyebrow and sipped her tea before answering.

"You know what I do darling – most of my clients are very rich people." Martin slurped his tea and nodded absently.

"But I don't... I don't earn hardly anything... I can't just live here and let you _keep _me." Irene smiled.

"Of course not darling. Once you're settled in I'm sure we'll find a way to sort that out."

Martin nodded and continued drinking his tea, standing by the window and examining the garden. He trusted Irene; trusted her completely. He was surprised he trusted her so easily, but, reasoning that she'd given him no cause not to, he was content to continue trusting her.

Irene was surprised by his simple acceptance of what she said; she wasn't used to people trusting her. She watched him as he looked out onto the garden, tracing the outline of Martins body. She gazed at his ginger hair and his attractive body (he'd put on weight since she'd started making him eat properly so wasn't as skinny) and realised that she cared for Martin, cared how he felt and what happened to him. Irene put down her teacup and went to stand beside Martin, resting her head on his shoulder.

Martin jumped slightly and glanced down to see Irene leaning on him. He frowned before awkwardly putting his arm round her. Martin had now established that he did not understand Irene at all; she was very rich and very beautiful, yet she still seemed to want him. She'd sought him out, introduced herself, persisted, and bought a house in Coventry to be near him. Martin did not understand Irene one bit, but that doesn't mean he didn't care for her. Martin smiled.

"I urm don't believe you showed me the bedroom?"

"No. I didn't." Irene responded, with a smile. "Better do so now then." Martin smiled too, and let Irene lead the way.

...

Martin was drifting off to sleep that night, tired out and sated, when he felt Irene move next to him. Before he realised what had happened, Irene had snuggled up against him, draping one of her legs over his, and resting her head on his chest. Martin vaguely thought how nice it felt and how unusual it was (Irene not being a woman for frequent open displays of affection), before he dropped off to sleep.

**Yea, a little bit of fluff at the end – I couldn't help it. I think it's cute anyway.**

**Also, if you haven't already, feel free to read my other recently posted fics. Enjoy!**


	8. A Red Envelope

**I made up the mobile number so apologies if it remotely resembles the number of anyone who reads this or anyone they know. I was going to make up an address but it was too much palaver to make up a realistic one, so I just left it.**

_Dear Ms. Knapp-Shappey,_

_I have recently become aware of MJN Air and, after some investigation, have a business proposition to make._

_If my conditions are met, I will be happy to provide the company with contracts as well as an annual monetary investment._

_I am willing to invest the initial amount of £50,000 into your company, and after that will invest an annual amount of £10,000. If the company makes profit (of which I would like 40%) I will consider investing more._

_I will also recommend your company to any acquaintances of mine who require your services._

_In exchange for this, you must pay all your employees the wage they would expect to receive for their job if they were employed by a different company (though this excludes your steward as I understand he is not technically employed by you)._

_You must also provide me with a free seat on any of your flights that are not already fully booked if I so choose. (I am willing to undergo the necessary training to become a flight attendant, so that, if I need a seat on a flight that is already fully booked, I will still be able to have a place on the flight.)_

_Furthermore, I must have access to all the accounts, but will not interfere in the running of the business unless it persistently loses money._

_These are the basic conditions and enclosed is a draft of the document which we would both need to sign in order to finalise the agreement._

_If you wish to discuss this further, feel free to reply by letter to the above address, phone me on 07784610628, or we could arrange a meeting if you would prefer._

_Yours sincerely_

_Ms. I. Adler_

Carolyn stared at the letter she held in her hand, not knowing what to think. No-one had ever shown (and she had never expected anyone to show) this kind of interest in MJN. She read through the letter again, trying to work out why 'Ms. I. Adler' should have an interest in MJN (since anyone with any knowledge of business would know that MJN would not be a profitable investment). Carolyn sighed. She knew she'd take up the offer, but didn't like relinquishing any of her control or status in the company. At that moment, Arthur walked in.

"Hello Mum, get anything interesting in the post? I got my bear magazine – it's about pandas this month." There was a moment's pause. "What have you got there Mum? It looks interesting because the envelope is red, and nothing boring could come in a red envelope."

"Be quiet Arthur, it's just a letter about MJN."

"Ooh, brilliant!"

"_Arthur!_"

"Righto, sorry." Arthur left to read his bear magazine in the living room, and Carolyn read the letter over once more before sighing, glancing at the clock, and picking up her phone. She dialled the number, reasoning that she'd make an appointment to meet this mysterious person in the next few days, by which point she would have put together a plan of action. The phone was answered on the second ring.

"Hello, how can I help?"

"Urm, this is Carolyn Knapp-Shappey, I'm ringing to make an appointment with Ms Adler."

"Very good. I presume this is to discuss her proposed investment in MJN?"

"Err yes."

"Ok, well she's set aside some time in her schedule for negotiations with you. How's tomorrow at 4pm?"

"That's perfect, thank you." The woman, who was clearly a secretary, relayed the address and reminded Carolyn of the date and time, before hanging up. Carolyn breathed deeply a few times, before picking up her phone again and dialling Herc's number; she needed a distraction from MJN.


	9. Spooning

**Thanks for reading and reviews and stuff. This chapter is in response to a request from a friendly reviewer, CatWhiskers – thank you dear and I hope you like the chapter. Enjoy!**

Martin rolled onto his back and sleepily opened his eyes. He frowned briefly at the ceiling, before remembering that he was now living in a very nice house in Coventry with his girlfriend, rather than living in a lonely and rubbish attic sharing a house with students in Fitton. He smiled at the thought and stretched, enjoying how comfortable the bed was. Martin glanced at the clock, but couldn't see it because the room was dark, though he guessed it must be the early hours of the morning. How had he even got here? What divine power had suddenly decided that Martin should have a good life? And for how long would it last?

Martin glanced over and smiled as he felt Irene move beside him; the duvet had moved down to reveal the creamy skin on her back, and Martin had to resist kissing it in case he woke her up. He wondered how many other people, men and women; he knew Irene liked both, had spent the night with her in bed like this, had seen her naked back and wanted to kiss it. He knew she wasn't a virgin, and neither was he, but Martin was pretty sure that Irene had more experience than he did. He'd had a few relationships in the past; three if you don't count the one where the girl had slapped him when he tried to kiss her, and it hadn't even occurred to him (until now) to consider how many Irene had had. It also hadn't occurred to Martin (and it didn't now) that Irene's job was largely separate from her personal relationships, so she hadn't had as many as people would presume. What _really _didn't occur to Martin, was the idea that Irene might care for him, and therefore not intend to leave him or search for someone better.

Martin's thoughts wandered to Irene's job. When Irene had told him (even showed him a bit to help him understand) Martin had swung between speechlessness and inability to speak without stuttering for the whole day. When he had woken up the next morning, he found his brain had placed the information on the shelf of thoughts he wanted to avoid. And he more or less had, until now.

_Dominatrix. _At least that sounds better than prostitute, which is what most people would call her. But did he? Martin honestly didn't know what he thought of Irene's job. She enjoyed it but it made it easier for her to cheat on him if she so chose, it was almost prostitution, but it made a lot of money, and goodness only knows what he'd tell the crew of MJN Air if they ever asked about his girlfriend's profession.

Martin didn't know what to do with all these thoughts banging about in his head; he couldn't even file them into organised categories of things he agreed with and things he didn't, or advantages and disadvantages. Martin didn't even know why his lover had chosen such a profession; it suited her personality, but beyond that he didn't have a clue.

After sitting in silence for well over half an hour, all these unorganised thoughts swirling in his brain, Martin came to a simple conclusion. Although he was not entirely comfortable with it, Irene had the right to choose her own profession and what made her happy. At least she got paid for it – Martin supposed some people would think he was worse, since he agreed to work for no pay at all.

With his conclusion, Martin gave into temptation, and turned over, nuzzling into Irene's back and spooning her, as he drifted back to sleep.

...

Irene smiled as she woke up the next morning, and she realised that she really _must_ be fond of Martin if she was content to wake up next to him. She began to turn over to face him, when she realised she couldn't. She had Martin wrapped round her, his chest pressed against her back, one hand cupped her left breast while the other supported her head.

_Spooning. _She was actually _spooning _with Martin Crieff. She may consider him her lover, but never has she _spooned_ with anyone. Irene smirked when she realised it's because she's never stuck with anyone long enough to get to this stage. Now she has, Irene's discovered she rather likes it.

Irene reached for her phone to read her messages; just three from Kate telling her of two clients calling, as well as Carolyn Knapp-Shappey. She smiled; Irene likes power-play, and she's sure she'll get it with Carolyn Knapp-Shappey, who will have to be very careful when she realises that the new investor is her pilot's lover. (Hence, Carolyn will be Martin's superior, but Irene will be superior to Carolyn.)


	10. A Personal Visit

**Wow, double figures – never thought I'd get this far! Wrote this on my phone a while ago but have only just been able to type it up now. This was going to be chapter 9, but I altered that. So here comes one of my favourite Sherlock characters!**

Mycroft shifted in the seat and reached for the folder next to him. He skim read the sheets inside, committing any important information to memory, before closing the file and replacing it in its original position. House calls were not Mycroft's division; he preferred kidnappings, but this time he deemed it unwise if he wanted his men to remain uninjured.

The car paused in the driveway as the security camera on the gate relayed the images to Kate at her desk, and, after a moment, the gates were opened. When the car stopped outside the house, Mycroft was met at the door by Kate and conducted to the conservatory, where he was provided with tea and biscuits while he waited. Kate left, briefly explaining that Miss Adler would be down shortly.

...

Irene smiled as she felt Martin move slightly, signalling he was awake. "Morning my Captain." Irene had taken to calling Martin this, and Martin rather liked it, though not for the usual reasons he liked his position to be recognised.

"Morning love." Irene smiled at the endearment – she'd never been called 'love' before by anyone, and she liked that Martin had started calling her by it.

Irene's phone rang and she reached over to pick it up. "Yes Kate?"

"Mycroft Holmes is in the conservatory."

"Oh how lovely (!) Won't be long." Irene hung up and Martin asked what the matter was. "Just an old acquaintance paying an unexpected visit. Let's have a shower." Martin smiled and followed Irene into the en suite.

...

Mycroft had to wait exactly 14 minutes before Irene appeared. She entered, wearing a tight-fitting white dress, and followed by the man Mycroft knew to be Captain Martin Crieff. He would have been surprised at the similarity to his dead brother if he hadn't already seen a picture. Irene sat down and so did Martin, Irene pouring them both tea before beginning to speak.

"Mycroft, as you already know, this is Captain Martin Crieff. Martin, as you didn't already know, this is Mycroft Holmes, the British government." Martin looked rather shocked at the last statement, but said nothing, so Mycroft spoke instead.

"_Your_ Captain Miss Adler?"

"Well wouldn't you call Gregory Lestrade _your_ Inspector?"

"Touché." Irene smirked and sipped her tea. "I came to see if you were behaving yourself for once; if all these _meddling_ were distracting you."

"And you paid me a personal visit? I'm touched. But I think you already know the answer to your own question Mr Holmes – I love to misbehave, so why would I stop? I still dabble with danger, but not the likes of Moriarty or your brother, or even you. I stand on my own two feet, apart from consulting criminals, detectives and governments, the way I used to. And I rather like it that way."

Mycroft sighed. "So you still have your security?"

"Of course, though nothing that put the lives of other people at stake. I know where to draw the line now that I've stepped back into the shadows; I'm not a fool..."

"No, that's one thing you're not. Though..." Mycroft's eyes wandered to Martin a moment and lingered there. Martin met his gaze, his eyes dropping as he understood what was being implied. Irene glanced up from looking at her tea.

"If you have something to say Mycroft, then just say it."

"This life, these people, can't interest you for long, which is why I'm keeping an eye on you..."

"You'd keep an eye on me anyway" Irene interjected.

"There's no Moriarty to ally with, no Sherlock to play with or to save you..."

Irene interrupted. "What makes you think I need Sherlock in my life? He is dead, and I am not, and there's an end to it."

"You're living with a failed pilot who resembles my dead brother. Believe what you will Miss Adler, but the facts suggest otherwise." Irene pressed a buzzer on the table, which Martin guessed summoned Kate, before standing. Irene stood in front of Mycroft, who also stood, and although Irene was much shorter, it was clear who held the power in this situation.

"My life and my Captain are neither your business, nor your concern." Kate entered as Irene continued. "Kate will show you to the door."

They held eye contact before Mycroft picked up his umbrella, nodding towards them, "Miss Adler, Captain Crieff", and left.

Irene finished her tea and went to stand outside on the patio. Martin placed his teacup down and glanced away, a tear rolling down his cheek as he thought of Mycroft's words and how true they were. After a moment spent collecting her thoughts, Irene returned and Martin stood up abruptly, brushing the tear from his face.

"I've g-g-got a urm a delivery job now. Bye."

"You do know your stutter is gorgeous?" Martin didn't respond; he just went out the door. "Martin?" Again he didn't respond. "Captain, my Captain?" Martin turned round, and when Irene saw the tears that streaked his face, she frowned. "Martin, what is it?" Martin began to sob.

"He was r-r-right" sniff "I am a-a-a failed" sniff "pilot and a-a-an idiot" sniff "and you'll leave me" sniff "cos I'm boring and r-r-rubbish."

Irene paused, completely unsure what to do in a situation like this. She decided that she may as well go with the truth, so she pulled Martin into a hug before saying, "If I intended to leave I would have left ages ago – you're interesting and I like that you care for me...I think I care for you too." Martin smiled through his tears and wonkily kissed Irene, who added "and you're not a failed pilot".

Martin smiled and sniffed "I do need to deliver a wardrobe though."

"I'll come with you. Kate, we're going out." Irene grabbed her keys and shut the door behind them.

**Wow they** **get longer every time! And yes I'm a Mystrade fan =p Well, a fan of Gregory Lestrade and Mycroft Holmes, so it makes sense to pair them.**

**(!) is a sarc-mark, for those who don't know.**


	11. The Agreement

**Thanks to my lovely fiancé, who is typing this to my dictation. Anyway; anyone who can tell which film the quote is from in the last chapter (I'm not telling you which quote) and lets me know, I'll either create a character of your name (so you have to tell me it) or include a word of your choice. The same reward for anyone who notices my little sneaky trick in this chapter. Yes this is bribery to get you to review. Please respond to my bribery. Story now anyway.**

Carolyn pulled up into the driveway and parked the car, glancing up at the house, before heading towards the door. Before she'd even pressed the doorbell, a young woman opened the door, smiling.

"Come in Ms Knapp-Shappey." Carolyn recognised the voice as the one she'd spoken to on the phone.

"Urm, thank you." He coat was taken and hung up, and she was led into the conservatory where a teapot and cups waited. Carolyn took a seat and fidgeted a bit before sitting still. About five minutes late (but it felt like longer) a reasonably young woman entered, dressed in a white formal dress, her hair partially pinned up.

"Pleased to meet you Ms Knapp-Shappey." Irene held out her hand and Carolyn shook it.

"Pleased to meet you too Ms Adler." Irene smiled and seated herself before pouring the tea. She sat back in her seat, saying nothing, and waiting for Carolyn to speak. Although Carolyn tried to wait her out, her awkwardness and impatience overcame any previous decisions and she spoke: "I'm here about the letter and contract you sent me." Irene inclined her head in acknowledgement, but said nothing, so Carolyn continued. "It is a generous offer, but MJN is a loss making company and £10,000 a year is hardly likely to bridge that gap."

"Are you asking me for more money?"

"Well, I suppose I am."

"I told you I have contacts. I've spoken with some of them and I could guarantee you an extra 7 bookings, either for a full plane or a private flight, within a month. They would not clash with you other flights and would still allow the required 12 hours in between flights." Irene continued speaking, not allowing Carolyn to say anything. "I can make MJN profitable and you already know my only offer." Carolyn was actually speechless, and Irene took a moment to enjoy it before saying, "I know you've already decided to accept, so let's sign the contract and save ourselves the trouble. I will complete the training to become a steward, and will come with the cabin crew on the next refresher course. Is it as Ipswich again?"

Again Carolyn was speechless, this time because of the knowledge Irene had, yet couldn't possibly have. However, she collected herself quickly and came to the realisation that they should just sign the document so she could leave – staying here any longer would have no benefits.

"Alright. Let's just sign it then." Irene smiled and produced a pen and three copies of the document, all of which Carolyn signed, and then Irene signed. Irene handed one copy to Carolyn and filed the others away.

"Give your bank details to Kate on the way out and she'll arrange the initially transfer and the direct debit." Irene pressed a buzzer, then stood. "It was good to meet you Ms Knapp-Shappey, I look forward to seeing you next week when I avail myself of a seat on your flight to Rio." Carolyn nodded: the flight was only half full of businessmen, so she reasoned it would be a relatively safe flight in which to introduce this investor to MJN. "And your flight to El Paso the week after. Also, any flights to Nepal or Egypt in the next few months – they're places I've always wanted to go." Carolyn dumbly nodded and followed Kate out the room, leaving the house 3 minutes later.

Martin came to the window just in time to see a car driving away, but not who it was. He'd been sitting in a swivel chair in the spare bedroom, which Irene had had laid out as an office for them to share (though Martin knew it was mainly because Irene knew he'd always wanted one).

"Who was that?" Martin shouted down.

"I've made an investment in a company, and that was the company's CEO." Irene came up the stairs. "Nothing important, I'm sure you can meet her sometime. I'll be away on a business trip with that company at the time you're flying to Rio." Martin nodded and sat down in his comfy chair, dismissing the matter from his mind.

**Finally typed up and uploaded! A little puzzle I've put in – why should Carolyn know that this mysterious investor is Martin's girlfriend/how does Irene tell her? If you work it out I'll name a character for you. Don't worry if you can't though – it is hard – this is what happens when I read the Sherlock Holmes IQ book! Yes this is bribery to get reviews – I'm sure nobody minds.**


	12. A Proper Pilot

**Thank you for all the reviews and the followings and readings from people. I will make characters for certain people, just keep an eye out because they won't appear for a few chapters. Sorry as well for both my author's notes in the last chapter being very similar – I forgot to compare/read them when reading over the chapter! Never mind anyway. Enjoy the chapter.**

The following day Irene drove Martin to the airport for his next flight: taking a family and all their worldly goods to Auckland, New Zealand, where they'd decided to move. Martin said goodbye to Irene, and met the crew of MJN just inside the airport entrance.

"Hello Skip, you look happy."

"Yes...yes I am, thank you Arthur."

"And could it be anything to do with Sir's lady love?"

Carolyn interrupted "Well if it is I don't want to hear it – I've heard enough about that woman to last me a lifetime." They began to make their way through the airport, and Arthur started talking to no-one in particular.

"My room was repainted yesterday – it was brilliant! Now the walls are blue instead of a sort of faded green, and I'm going to put up posters of bears and everything! What did you do yesterday Skip?"

"Oh, urm, nothing much Arthur – delivered a wardrobe and had a visit from a man with a funny name who reminded me of Douglas."

"You mean the name or the person?" Carolyn asked, with a smirk.

Douglas frowned. "I'll have you know, Douglas is a rather normal name."

"No, his name was My...something – Something Holmes anyway."

"Holmes?!"

"Good grief Arthur!"

"Holmes?! Like, like the detective?!"

Martin frowned. "What detective?"

"Some detective committed suicide because he was exposed as a fake or something."

"But Sherlock Holmes wasn't a fake, Douglas; he was brilliant! He could tell you everything about you just by looking at you – he could even tell a pilot by looking at their left thumb." Arthur finished excitedly. Martin had just begun to examine his left thumb, when he suddenly realised what had been said.

"Sherlock Holmes? They talked about someone called that, said he was dead and that he was...oh my goodness, we've been visited by his brother and I didn't even have a clue who he was."

"Wow that's brilliant Skip. You've met My...crift? Mycrift? No: Mycroft. You've met Mycroft Holmes!"

"That is somewhat impressive Martin, I grant you." Commented Douglas

"And Irene said he was the British Government, and I thought she was just joking, but..."

Arthur interrupted "John Watson said something about that on his blog too – they had to help some Greek man who was kidnapped, and it was Mycroft who asked for their help, cos he's important in the government, but John couldn't say anymore because it was all top secret – like spies and stuff!" Arthur grinned

...

When Irene arrived back home, she made a brief phone call to the advertisements section of the local newspaper.

"Hello? Yes, I'd like to advertise a job vacancy with Icarus removals. Delivery with van, so applicants must be licensed. Flexible hours. Pay: £12 an hour. Apply to 07784610628 or email . Can you put this in for the next three days then take it out? Thank you."

Irene hung up, then sat back in her chair, reflecting on her decision to take Martin's job situation into hand. She was worried she could have miscalculated, and that Martin would be angry or unhappy with the changes. She quickly reasoned herself out of this worry, and dismissed it as an irrational fear. Irene stood abruptly, going into the bedroom to change and pick up her things, before leaving to see a client.

...

"Did he deduce you?"

"Arthur, he hardly did anything. You haven't stopped talking about this since we went through customs, don't you have some stewarding to do?"

"Yes; there's some children that look about your age." Martin and Arthur frowned at Douglas' comment.

"But I'm 29."

"I meant your mental age."

"Douglas..."

"Oh. Right. Ok. I'll, urm, see you, then. Bye." Arthur left, and Martin turned on Douglas.

"Do you have to be so mean to him?"

"I'm only joshing, he knows that."

"Sometimes the things you say can actually be hurtful Douglas."

"That's only because you're all too sensitive."

They passed the next half an hour in silence, before Douglas suggested a new word game and they began to play. That is, Douglas began to win and Martin began to lose.

...

When they arrived in Auckland, Martin sent Irene a quick text saying he'd arrived, before collecting his bag and following Carolyn and the others out the airport. She stopped as soon as they got outside and began speaking:

"Stop a minute: I want to speak to you. That is, I _need_ to speak to you. I haven't told you yet, but yesterday I signed a contract with an investor in MJN. She's putting money in and getting us customers."

"Aww that's nice of her."

"Wait dear heart, I haven't finished. Because of her, we're staying in a nice, well, acceptable, hotel to celebrate. And..." she paused for Arthur to become quiet and still "...one of her conditions was that I pay all my employees – so Martin will be getting paid. And she'll be coming on some flights with us in the future."

"Golly. That was unexpected. Our Supreme Commander is now a _professional_ pilot."

"Skip that's brilliant! Now you won't have to be a man with a van anymore. Well not unless you want to. And you don't have to keep asking Mum to pay you."

Martin was completely speechless. He just stood there, as Douglas and Arthur loaded their bags into the boot of the taxi, only moving when Carolyn nudged him to encourage him to get in the car.

When they were finally all settled in their rooms, Martin sat down on his bed and, pulling out his phone, sent Irene a text:

_Heard from Carolyn that sumone has investd in MJN – we will have more flights and nicer hotels, as well as me getting paid :) I'm a proper pilot! Martin xx_

The reply was quick in coming:

_That's really good darling. Enjoy the nice hotel and I'll see you when you get back. Irene xx_

Martin sighed happily and lay back on his bed.


	13. A Man With A Van Company

**So here I am typing up the next chapter that I actually wrote ages ago, because I'm bored and feeling lonely. Please review – even one word is nice. Thank you.**

Irene received three applicants for the delivery position. She briefly interviewed all three, before choosing one and informing them all. Next, Irene sent the man she'd hired, who was called Steven, and Kate, to place advertisements or Icarus Removals in all the local shops and businesses. As a result, by the time Martin returned from Auckland, Icarus Removals was already an on-going, profit-making business.

As usual, Irene picked Martin up from the airport and drove them home. Martin was still elated at e prospect of being paid to fly, and talked almost non-stop until they arrived back home. In a strange reversal of positions, Martin took control and had Irene in bed within one minute of arriving home, leaving her no opportunity to say anything about Icarus Removals until much later.

...

A while later, lying in bed and sipping from a glass of rather upmarket wine, Irene broached the subject.

"I made some changes to Icarus Removals while you were away, so it can carry on even when you're busy flying."

Martin frowned. "What changes?"

"I hired a driver and put out some advertisements."

Martin frowned again. "Is this b-because you think I'm not capable or something? Just because I've flown a plane for free and lived in a rubbish attic for years doesn't mean I can't do anything, and it doesn't mean I want your pity." He swung his feet off the bed onto the floor and stayed in that position, facing away from Irene.

Irene put her glass on the bedside table and studied Martin, wondering how she had miscalculated so badly. In his position, Martin should be glad of help, though she supposed most people would think the same. She realised she hadn't taken into account his pride and self sufficiency. _I'll have to handle this carefully _she thought.

"Martin, I was trying to help. I was pleased that you're getting a wage, and proud of you, so I wanted to surprise you and make your life a little bit easier, because that's what people do when they care. I've only hired someone; you can fire them if you choose because it's still your company." There was a silence of a few minutes before Irene asked, "Am I forgiven, my Captain?"

Martin paused, before asking, "So I'm not just a 'man with a van', I'm a 'man with a van company'? Well, I still have a van, and it's more a delivery company than anything, but you get w-what I mean."

Irene smiled, "Yes you are, Martin."

Martin turned, a smile on his face, "That's 'Captain Crieff' to you," and leant forward to kiss her. Irene spent a minute worrying about how Martin would react to her other _involvement_, but then she became lost in kissing her lover, and thought no more about it.

**Just realised this is actually quite a short chapter. Oh well – the chapters I'm writing at the moment (later ones) are rather long – it's good to get a balance. **


	14. Revelation

**And we reach the climax of Irene's scheming – enjoy. Also, sorry that I've neglected my other stories – I've been quite busy.**

The week passed in a blur, and the trip to Rio grew closer. It was Martin's birthday while he was away – the 24th June to be exact – but he hadn't thought to mention it to Irene (the crew at MJN only knew because, when it was his birthday, Arthur had asked everyone when theirs was) and didn't want to now because it would sound like he was asking for a present. So he let it pass, and hoped that he would still be with Irene this time next year – knowing his luck she'd ask him to leave months before his next birthday.

Irene dropped Martin at the airport, per usual, and then drove back home. She waited another half an hour to make sure she was late before Kate drove her to the airport. Irene had correctly concluded that arriving late meant she would avoid being introduced to any of the cabin crew before the flight. It seemed that Arthur had been forbidden to talk to her, because on the one occasion he began to approach her, Carolyn intercepted him. The CEO of MJN was probably terrified that Irene would pull out of the contract if Arthur introduced himself.

Irene waited until the seatbelt sign had been turned off (well, the one that wasn't flickering had been turned off), before signalling to Carolyn as she walked past.

"Ms Knapp-Shappey? I was wondering if I might visit the flight deck to meet the pilots and the steward."

"Well it's not normally allowed for any non-crew member to be on the flight deck, but I think we can make an exception in this case. If you'll follow me." Carolyn led her along the aisle and onto the flight deck. Neither of the pilots looked around when the door opened, probably assuming it was just Carolyn or Arthur, so Carolyn cleared her throat. "This is First Officer Douglas Richardson and Captain Martin Crieff. This is..."

Irene interrupted "Irene Adler. But I think you already know me."

Martin spun round, his jaw dropping, as Douglas frowned and turned as well. At that moment, Arthur walked in.

"Hello chaps! And chapesses. Wow, Irene, what are you doing here?"

"Irene?! This is Irene?!" exclaimed Carolyn, "oh bloody hell." She sat down on the jump seat and passed a hand over her forehead.

Douglas seemed to recover first. "Well this is unexpected I must say. I take it you are both Martin's girlfriend and the mysterious miracle in investor?"

"Yes I am."

"Well played." Irene smirked as Arthur began to talk.

"Awww that's brilliant; now you can come away with us and Skip won't miss you like he normally does, and you can play charades with me while they're flying."

Irene smiled "maybe..."

"I can't believe this..." began Carolyn, before stopping as a passenger pressed their call button. "Arthur, come on."

"Yes mum." They left, and silence fell on the flight deck. Douglas stood up and said to no-one in particular:

"Just going to use the loo", before leaving Irene and Martin alone.

The silence stretched on for minutes until Irene broke it by saying "Happy Birthday Captain Crieff."

Martin was sitting in his seat, staring at the controls to try to halt his mounting anger. He was only partially successful. "So you thought you had to interfere in this job as well? Do you really think I'm that incapable and incompetent that I can't do anything for myself? I'm not a baby, and if all you feel for me is pity, then maybe I should move out."

Martin's pride fought with hit attachment to Irene. He should have known that it wouldn't last, and by ending it himself he could at least walk out of it with his head held high. But how could he end what had seemed to be the trigger for all his good luck? For once things were going right for him and he suggested ending that, but he couldn't live with someone who only pitied him; he wanted someone who cared and tried to love him, even if they couldn't actually love him. His pride said that he deserved better than that: he deserved honesty and love and respect, and he wanted it so badly. This prompted another feeling to speak up – that of his insecurity that he wasn't good enough, wasn't lovable, and should make the best of whatever life throws his way. As a result, Martin's resolve was weakened – he should be grateful for what he has and not ask for more; Irene can tolerate him and that should be enough – he was paid, well fed and had company. He desperately didn't want to be alone again.

This all passed through Martin's head in the space of half a minute, and before he knew it, he was blurting out words at lightening speed that he hadn't even thought through: "No please don't leave Irene please don't leave I didn't mean what I said I don't want us to separate I'm grateful for your help and that you can tolerate me in your house and if this makes you happy then I'm glad please don't make me leave because of what I said..." Martin trailed off and there was a pause.

"I've only ever known one other person who could talk for that long without taking a breath." Martin blushed a bright red, and Irene couldn't help but smile. She sat in Douglas' seat, turned to face Martin, and continued talking. "I can't remain a Dominatrix forever – when I get too old, I need something to fall back on. These are calculated investments – although I arranged them, you will be making the money, and I hope...that I'll be able to benefit from the money you earn as well."

Irene paused as Martin drank in those words, but she spoke again, before she'd even thought about the words that were on the tip of her tongue. "My Captain, I miss you when you're away, and this gives me an excuse to come with you. It wasn't completely a calculated investment – I admit there was some emotion involved too." Irene looked out the window as Martin sat there in silence, absorbing Irene's speech and its implications.

"I'm s-sorry, it's just that people always pity me and think I can't do anything and..." Martin trailed off as Irene reached over to stroke his cheek, and replied in a teasing tone,

"I thought that Captain Crieff, the Commander of this vessel, didn't have to answer to anyone, and certainly didn't have to apologise. As a lowly stewardess-to-be, I should be apologising to you."

Martin understood this for what it was: an apology, and one that was truly heartfelt.

...

Martin was rather pleased that, for once, he was in a nicer hotel room than Douglas. And sharing it with a woman he cared for. And getting paid for flying planes (finally). All in all, Martin Crieff was pleased because, for once, he was actually in a better position than Douglas Richardson. Not that Douglas was a topic he should really be thinking about in his current situation, his body curled around his girlfriend's, their warm skin touching and merging. He nuzzled Irene's shoulder, and she shuffled closer to him in her sleep.

Irene was a topic he'd happily contemplate, lying in the king size bed in the hotel suite, the night before his birthday. It seemed that she could even give Carolyn (and probably Douglas) a run for their money when it came to intelligence and ulterior motives. Although not unintelligent himself, Martin had never been able to compete, but now it seemed he'd found someone who could.

He was looking forward to flights with Irene as the stewardess because, if he was completely honest, now that Martin had found something, someone, good and had gained a bit of confidence from it, he wanted the whole world to know. He wanted businessmen, tourists, celebrities, even Mr Birling to know that the beautiful stewardess was his girlfriend. And yes, he was looking forward to getting a few jealous looks from some of the male clients.

Martin smiled, kissing Irene's neck before closing his eyes. She clearly cared about him, and he was happier than he could remember being for a long time.

**Wow this is long. Hope you enjoyed it **


	15. Singer or Dominatrix?

**Sorry this chapter isn't brilliant.**

Martin and Irene managed to settle into a routine. With Martin now being paid for flights and running his van business on the side, he could afford to be busy with MJN, which was good, because with Irene's new contacts there were usually two or three flights a week. Irene came on most flights, and spent time working towards becoming a stewardess: that is, more time than Douglas spent on becoming a pilot, but nowhere near as much time as Martin spent. Carolyn booked them in for a refresher course at Ipswich and, although somewhat out of character for Irene, she was sufficiently good at retrieving dummies from smoke filled rooms, diving into swimming pools, and reeling off facts about the aeroplane, that she passed.

This put Carolyn in a good mood, and she invited them all round to dinner at her house, Herc as well, to celebrate. Although Irene was far too similar to Douglas for her liking, with far too many connections and ulterior motives, Carolyn could see that Martin was happier. She could also see the effect Irene's investment and clients were beginning to have on MJN's finances: the company finally seemed to be making profit. That was definitely worth a celebration in Carolyn's eyes.

Irene and Martin arrived first, and Arthur kept them entertained with facts about ancient Egypt, before abruptly asking what Irene's job was. Martin tensed.

"I'm a singer" replied Irene, without batting an eyelid, and Martin relaxed. Luckily for him, Arthur didn't notice his reaction.

"A singer? Aww wow that's brilliant! What songs do you sing? Are you famous?!"

"Not really, thought I've met some famous people."

"Brilliant! Oh, I remember now; Skip mentioned the Mycroft Holmes had visited you. I forgot because we were so busy flying."

"Well Arthur, that is to be expected if you work as a steward."

Irene smiled at Martin before speaking. "Yes, I know Mycroft. I wouldn't think he's the kind of person you'd call famous."

"No, but Sherlock Holmes is!...was. He's brilliant, even though he's dead and everyone thinks he was lying. But I don't think he was because, well, it wouldn't be very nice to lie to that many people."

"So you think Jim Moriarty was real?"

"Who? The bad guy? Yea, course he was – all stories have got to have a bad guy." Arthur paused. "Have you met Sherlock Holmes then?"

Irene smiled. "I've met them both: Jim Moriarty and Sherlock Holmes."

"Really?! Wow, that's just brilliant! What did he say? Did he deduce you? Were you a client? Sherlock, I mean, not Moriarty."

Martin sighed in exasperation and Irene leaned over to kiss his cheek, making him blush a little – Irene had been amused when she had realised that kissing Martin in front of other people made him blush, so she made sure to do it quite often.

"I wasn't a client – I was the case. I had something Mycroft Holmes wanted and I didn't want to give it back. It wasn't anything bad – I only wanted to keep it safe and secret. But Mycroft asked Sherlock to visit, and I was clever enough to best him. At first. But then I was stupid, and didn't think, and he outsmarted me." Irene looked thoughtful, and Arthur was enrapt with the story. "I met Jim because I wanted help outwitting Sherlock, and he gave me help."

"Wowwww! That's brilliant! You're nearly as clever as Sherlock Holmes!"

The doorbell went, and Arthur jumped up to let Douglas in.

"Ah, hello Arthur, I..."

Arthur interrupted. "Irene's met Sherlock Holmes!"

"Well that's good for her I'm sure..."

"No, she's met Sherlock Holmes, and Mycroft Holmes, and Jim Moriarty and," Arthur paused and popped his head round the living room door, "have you met John Watson?" Irene nodded, "and she'd met John Watson." Arthur finished triumphantly.

"Golly." Douglas entered and headed towards the chair by the window. "Well done you. But I thought he was a fake?"

"He's no more a fake than Arthur is." Replied Irene.

Douglas eyed Arthur sceptically. "And Jim Moriarty?"

"Was rather nice to me, though a bit irritating. I'm ready to trust John that he had it in for Sherlock." Irene smirked and Douglas raised his eyebrows, before saying:

"I am proven wrong, it would seem." Arthur grinned, just as Carolyn walked in.

"Ah, there you all are..."

"Mum! Irene's a singer, and she's met Sherlock Holmes!"

"That's lovely Arthur. Now will someone come and help me? Irene?" Irene raised an eyebrow, but followed Carolyn into the kitchen, and began to help sort out dinner. "Irene, will you bring one the wine bottles from the rack?"

"Martin and I brought some wine, I'll just go and get it."

Irene returned with some of the most expensive wine Carolyn had ever seen.

"Wow, yes, that's, urm, thank you Irene – just put it over there." Carolyn checked the food in the oven, then took the opportunity of being her usual nosey self. "So you're a singer?"

"Partly yes. I do a bit of singing, a bit of investing, but my main job is (well, used to be) a dominatrix." Carolyn dropped the fork she was holding, and stood blinking for a few moments before slowly bending to pick it up. "I didn't think you'd appreciate me telling Arthur that. Nor do I think Martin will appreciate the entirety of MJN knowing, so I tell people I'm a singer. But I got bored of that and felt like telling someone."

Irene smiled and Carolyn weakly smiled back, as her brain tried to cope with the new information – Martin and a dominatrix? The doorbell went, and the pair heard Arthur answer it. Carolyn, glad of the distraction, stepped into the hallway, saying,

"You're late, and this time we did actually agree a time."

"I'm three minutes late, it's hardly the height of criminality."

"Oh shut up and come carry these plates." Carolyn re-entered the kitchen, followed by Herc. Irene, who was perched on a stool, raised her eyebrows.

"Hello Hercules. I must say, it's been quite a while." Herc turned to face Irene and visibly paled when he saw her. She stood and wandered over to him before turning towards Carolyn. "Herc is an old client, though I haven't seen him for the past two years. But maybe you don't want everyone to know that." Irene smirked and left the room.

...

When they sat down to dinner, everyone could feel the tension. Well, everyone except Arthur, who chatted away happily about Sherlock Holmes and all his cases, much to Irene's amusement. The tension made Martin feel awkward, but it made Douglas conversational, as he tried to disperse it. Irene couldn't have done a better job pretending she didn't notice it, until silence fell. Then she smirked, before asking,

"So Herc, what job do you do?"

"I'm a, urm, pilot."

"Yes of course, Carolyn mentioned that." Irene chewed a mouthful of food and continued. "So you have a lot of free time then? I can imagine you don't know what to do with yourself." Carolyn knew what Irene was getting at, and she enjoyed seeing Hercules squirm.

"Yes, well I have some spare time, yea."

Irene smirked and continued eating, leaving everyone but Carolyn and Herc confused about the point of that last question, though Martin was beginning to understand, and Douglas was beginning to understand that he was definitely missing something. He mentally shrugged, before asking,

"Is there something I don't know? Have Irene and Herc met before?"

"Yes we have – Herc paid me to _sing_ at some event or another a couple of years ago. He rather enjoyed it didn't you Hercules?"

Carolyn cleared her throat.

"Arthur, will you take the empty plates through while I pour more wine?"

"Right-o mum" Arthur cheerily collected the plates and went into the kitchen to stack them in the dishwasher.

This resulted in a moment's awkward silence before Douglas took the plunge: "Irene, you're not really a singer are you?"

"No dear, I'm a dominatrix, though I sing a bit sometimes." Martin frowned and blushed red, and Herc suddenly avoided eye contact with everyone.

"So when you say Herc paid you to sing?"

"I was being euphemistic – he hired my services as a dominatrix. Or, as Mycroft would put it, he paid for some 'recreational scolding'." Irene leant back in her chair, the only one at ease in the situation, as Arthur walked in.

"Mum, shall I serve out the pie?"

"Yes Arthur please do. Everyone likes apple pie?" No-one protested. "Good. Herc will help you."

Herc looked grateful for the excuse to leave, so he quickly left, followed by Carolyn who muttered something about custard. Douglas wasted no time in teasing Martin.

"Well _Sir_, I had no idea you liked the dominating types."

"Well, I, urm, didn't think I did until hand on, this is none of your business – this is my private life."

"But I bet she doesn't call you Sir – do you call her Miss Adler?"

"Douglas!"

Irene smirked, deciding to beat Douglas at his own game.

"Sometimes he does when I tell him to, sometimes it's just Irene, other times I call him Captain, or Captain Crieff – he rather likes that don't you darling?" Martin turned a brighter shade of red. "I presume you liked it when your wives called you Captain, though I can't imagine shouting 'Captain Richardson' in a moment of passion: 'Captain Crieff' rolls off the tongue much better."

Martin bolted from the room, running upstairs to the bathroom, and leaving Irene and Douglas alone together. Douglas admitted defeat by saying nothing more on the subject – if teasing Martin about Irene's job resulted in a detailed account of the physical side of their relationship, Douglas would leave off teasing. The sex life of Martin Crieff was one thing he didn't need to know about, so, like Carolyn, he promptly filed away the information but otherwise ignored it and carried on as before.


	16. Something(s) New

**Hopefully some humour now. Enjoy.**

The crew of MJN were bored. They were on a long flight to Beijing, transporting a load of exchange students from England on the way there, and a load of Chinese exchange students on the way back. They'd played passenger derby, and exhausted most of the word games they could think of. Douglas, Carolyn and Irene had played 'the travelling lemon' for a while until they'd run out of hiding places. Martin had lost all his bets, consequently losing all the cheeses on the tray to Douglas. And there was still _hours_ left of the flight.

Carolyn and Arthur were serving the students food, and Irene, after helping briefly, was now serving the pilots their food.

"Martin, have you ever played 'would you rather'?" Douglas suddenly asked.

"No, I don't think I have, how do you play? Is it like 'truth or dare'?"

"It can be: I give you two scenarios, you have to choose which one – even if you don't like either, you have to pick one."

"I'm not sure..."

"Come on Martin, it's something new."

"Okay, fine." Douglas grinned and Irene sat down on the jump seat to watch.

"Would you rather move to Canada or China?" Douglas began, innocently.

"Urm, Canada. Do I ask you now?" Douglas nodded. "Okay, um, would you rather...work for MJN or for Air England?"

"Such a serious question so early in the game? MJN naturally: I get paid, get to swap presents with friends, and to enjoy some interesting experiences. Would you rather get a tattoo or dye your hair permanently?"

Martin pulled a face. "I don't know. Probably dye me h..." his eyes wandered to Irene, and Martin remembered how much she liked his hair. He interrupted himself. "No: tattoo."

Douglas raised an eyebrow. "A tattoo of what, _Sir_?" Martin's eyes flickered to Irene and he blushed.

"That's n-not allowed: it's not a would you r-rather question."

"I know - I was just curios, that's all."

"Would you rather...smoke or drink?"

"Urmm...drink probably. Vodka specifically, then I could tell everyone it was water. Or vice versa. Would you rather lose your job or your girlfriend?"

Martin frowned and opened his mouth, though no sound came out. He sat there gaping, before he managed to blurt out, "Douglas! That's a horrible question! I can't answer that, and I'm not going to play if you're asking questions like that!"

Douglas could see he had truly offended Martin, so he only muttered something about being a spoilsport and said no more.

"We could just play truth or dare? I'll join in," suggested Irene

"Okay, but I'm not answering if I don't want to."

"That's fine – I'm sure Irene and I can think of plenty of dares and questions for each other. Truth or dare, Irene?"

"Oooh...truth."

"Okay, urm...have you ever kissed a woman?"

Martin made a small strangled noise, but Irene looked disappointed. "Of course."

Douglas frowned. "Sorry, it's just that not many heterosexual people would admit to kissing someone of the same sex."

"Aren't you assuming an awful lot?"

Martin frowned. "Sorry, am I the only one here that's confused?"

"I'm rather stumped myself," replied Douglas, "are you saying that you're not heterosexual?"

Irene shrugged. "I suppose people would say I'm bisexual, though I tended to prefer women until quite recently."

Douglas raised an eyebrow and shifted awkwardly, but Martin just shrunk into his seat, his chin on his chest and his face bright red.

"Truth or dare, Douglas?" asked Irene.

"Urm...I'll go for a dare."

Irene smirked. "Make a confession of love to Carolyn over the passenger intercom."

Martin groaned and Douglas took a deep breath, before saying "I've never lost a game of truth or dare yet." He pressed the appropriate button. "Hello, this is First Officer Douglas Richardson speaking. This isn't a passenger announcement, but I could think of no better way of expressing my devotion to Carolyn than to declare it publicly," Douglas paused, "Carolyn; I have admired you since we first met – admired your intelligence, your resourcefulness, and your independence. I long to look into your lovely eyes and tell you that I love you completely..."

Arthur burst in, just as Martin moaned "Carolyn will kill you for this: actually kill you!"

Arthur frowned. "No, it's alright Skip, she'll be really happy – she likes it when people like her." He grinned. "Are you going to get married?! Will you have a big cake?! Can I be bridesmaid, urm, best man, urm, pageboy...whatever?!"

Martin interrupted. "It was a dare, Arthur: Douglas doesn't really love her."

Arthur's face fell. "Oh. Well mum won't like that." At that moment, Carolyn stormed into the room.

Irene muttered something along the lines of "speak of the devil", but Carolyn paid her no attention.

"First Officer Richardson, I'd like a word with you in the galley. You can enjoy looking into my 'lovely eyes' right before I kill you." Douglas contritely followed Carolyn out the flight deck, and Irene began laughing. Martin began to chuckle as well, but Arthur frowned.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Because Douglas is in trouble for once, and not me," replied Martin.

"Yea, but that's not nice."

"It was his fault Arthur, he didn't have to do it," reasoned Irene.

Arthur paused a minute as he thought that through.

"Yea I suppose, it's just..." He was interrupted by the return of Douglas, who strolled to his seat.

"You're still alive? What did she say?" questioned Martin.

"She threatened me with a pay cut if I couldn't be 'professional'." Douglas pulled a face.

"Irene! Get in here: you're meant to be serving!" When Carolyn had realised that Irene wouldn't pull out of the contract, she began treating her with a little less reverence and respect, though Irene was still allowed some liberties that the others weren't.

Irene smirked and stood up, reaching forward to steal Martin's hat before leaving. Carolyn said nothing as Irene adjusted it in her head and began to serve the passengers. Martin blushed as he remembered the first time Irene had worn his hat.

...

An hour later, when Carolyn grew sick of the catcalls the male students were directing at Irene (who, herself, didn't actually seem to mind), she told Irene to go sit in the flight deck for a bit.

Irene entered with the words "so Captain, truth or dare?" and managing to startle Martin. He asked for truth and, before Irene could speak, Douglas said

"Are you a member of the mile high club?"

Irene raised an eyebrow and Martin frowned. "The 'mile high club'? What the hell is that? Is it one of those things you make up to confuse me?"

Douglas sighed and glanced towards Irene, who took the hint and spoke.

"People become a member of the mile high club if they've had sex in an aeroplane while it was in flight. I've only done it a few times."

"Me too," Douglas agreed, "well Captain?"

Martin turned bright red and it was obvious he was embarrassed. "Of c-course I'm not, Douglas! I'm the Captain – I can't just do that while the plane is flying!"

"I dare you to do it now. Join the mile high club before the end of this flight and you can have the whole cheese tray for a month, along with £50 and the knowledge that you've managed to surprise your First Officer, who won't say anything about it of course." Douglas smirked.

"Douglas! I can't do that! I...I just can't!"

"Well you've got the whole journey to think about it. Meanwhile; Irene, truth or dare?"

"Dare."

"Hmmm, okay. Why don't you French kiss Carolyn?"

Irene raised an eyebrow, "She's not quite my type really. Or are you daring me?"

"Daring you."

Martin began to choke on air which meant that Irene's "as long as it's ok with Martin" nearly went unheard.

Martin glanced round at her and smiled, before shrugging and muttering "it'd not like things could get any worse."

Douglas pressed the button for the intercom. "Carolyn? Could you come through a moment?"

"Yes, fine," was the irritated reply. She walked through the door, "what is it Douglas? I've got a plane full of students to deal with, as well as Arthur."

"Yes, um, sorry about this..." began Douglas.

Carolyn took a step forwards, just as Irene stood up, caught her round the waist, and pressed her own lips to Carolyn's. Irene kissed he thoroughly, so as to leave no doubt about whether she'd completed her dare, while Carolyn tried to fight her off and was eventually released.

"Sorry Carolyn, won't happen again – Douglas dared me, probably because he just found out I'm bisexual."

Carolyn simply opened her mouth, gaping like a fish as she turned pink. The she spoke slowly. "I'm going to sit in the galley and have a drink. No-one will talk to me until we have landed unless death is imminent. The next person to flirt with, kiss, or otherwise behave towards me in a way I don't like _will_ be fired, and I actually mean it. Now, you can serve the passengers with Arthur, and you two can fly the bloody plane: it is, after all, why you're here." She took a deep breath and left.

Silence fell in the flight deck for a few minutes, before Irene said "truth or dare, Douglas?"

He smiled, "truth I think – I'd like to keep my job if that's okay."

"Fair enough. Would you like to get married again?"

"Well I suppose I _could_; I probably would if I met someone I liked, but I'm not in any rush. Truth or dare?"

"I should probably stick to truth as well – shame."

"How did you and Martin first meet?"

Martin blushed at the memory as Irene smirked. "I saw him in the airport and thought he looked like someone I knew. I followed him and, the next time he was out, got one of the students to let me in so I could wait in his room for him when he got back." She knew Martin would understand the slight editing.

"So it was nothing to do with the exceptional wooing skills of our Captain?"

"Not at first, no."

Douglas raised an eyebrow, before telling Irene he wanted truth.

"Hmmm. I don't know...what did you think of me when we first met?"

"In what capacity – investor or Martin's girlfriend?!

"Just the first time we met."

"Well, I thought you were rich, beautiful, and that I didn't know how Martin had managed to find someone like you and make the relationship last. Now I know you, I think you're rich, beautiful, very confident, rather daring, and a bit similar to me."

"In what respect?"

"Well you seem to know everyone and have an ability to scheme secretly."

"I'm flattered."

"You should be; I don't say this to just anyone. Truth I presume?" Irene nodded. "Tell us about your first kiss."

"I was 12 or 13 and my family had only just moved to England from America. Other kids had already tried kissing and 'dating' and, to be honest, I wanted to try it because it was new. I knew there was a boy who fancied me, Godfrey Norton he was called, so I simply waited in the playground for him to come outside one day, dragged him round the corner and kissed him. Nothing special I'm afraid, but I don't place an awful lot of emphasis on first times."

Martin spoke suddenly. "If I do your dare will this game stop? I think I might actually die if it goes on any longer."

Douglas chuckled. "Yes the game can stop."

"Fine – I'll do the dare." He stood up, grabbed Irene by the hand and practically marched her out the flight deck.

When he returned, 10 minutes later, his cheeks were flushed pink, his clothes were dishevelled, his eyes were a bit glassy and his hat was missing.

Douglas smirked. "Well done Sir, I didn't think you'd actually do it."

"Nor did I." Before sitting down he adjusted his uniform, his hands going halfway to his head before he realised he no longer had his hat.

Martin glanced at Douglas. "Can you tell?"

Douglas looked him over. "It's as obvious as a stegosaurus in the street."

Martin sighed and adjusted his uniform again. "And Irene managed to look like nothing had happened. At least I don't have to serve the passengers." There was a pause. "What?"

"Oh, nothing – I was just half expecting Arthur to come in with a reason for you to have to speak to a passenger."

"Well it's not happening: we're just going to relax and enjoy the rest of the flight from here."

For once, they did as the Captain commanded.

**Wow I didn't realise this chapter was this long!**


	17. Curmudgeon

**Reall sorry for the delay in updating this – life has been ridiculous with lots of stuff happening, but am getting back into it now. Typing it up just takes so long :p**

...

The crew of MJN were sitting in the port-a-cabin. Douglas was flicking through a book, Martin was finishing the paperwork, Arthur was doing a puzzle book, and Carolyn had resorted to playing Sudoku on her phone. Irene had decided to opt out of this flight and instead make some money by seeing some clients; recently she'd spent far too much time with MJN.

Carolyn sighed. "Martin, are you done yet?"

"Nearly. Don't complain that I'm doing everyone else's work for them." Another minute passed until Martin put down his pen. "Done. Happy now?"

"Ecstatic," Carolyn's voice was dripping with her usual sarcasm, "Now, we all know what's happening this week: we fly to Manchester, taking with us a group of businessmen. We leave the businessmen there, and pick up a group of just-finished-being-students who we take to Amsterdam. We stay in Amsterdam five nights since we've got nothing booked in between and I want a holiday, take the students back to Manchester, and the businessmen back to Fitton. Sounds straightforward, but with you lot nothing is straightforward. At least I'll be there, since Irene isn't coming."

Martin sighed at this, but Carolyn ignored him. "We'll fly the plane, without diversions or disasters or anything and be back in a week in one piece."

Martin unintentionally sighed again, though quieter this time. "Martin pull yourself together: you look like a lovesick puppy and frankly it's revolting."

He pulled a face, but said nothing.

"Can we get on the plane now mum?"

"Yes, come on, we may as well get started, though the passengers shouldn't be here for another half an hour."

...

The flight to Manchester had gone as well as could be expected, which was, of course, not very well: Martin had lost the cheese tray (half to Arthur, half to Douglas), had an uncomfortable confrontation with a passenger (he'd been hassling Arthur, and Martin would never find that kind of behaviour acceptable), and caught his fingers in the port-a-cabin door when they were leaving. Now they'd just taken off on their way to Amsterdam. The plane was full of 10 students who had just finished training to be teachers, and were having a holiday before they started looking for proper jobs.

To be honest, Douglas was rather annoyed. Martin wouldn't play word games, wouldn't play other games, and wouldn't even keep up much of a conversation. When Arthur brought in the coffee, he just hummed in response.

"You alright Skip? You've hardly said anything."

"Yes, fine," he snapped.

"Oh Martin, stop being such a curmudgeon – you've been like this the whole trip."

"What's a...curmy...curmy...dungeon?" Arthur queried.

"Swallowed a dictionary did you?" muttered Martin, but Douglas chose to ignore him.

"A curmudgeon, Arthur, is someone who is in a bad temper."

"Right I get it. So you're saying Skipper is grumpy because Irene's not here?"

"Well I wasn't giving a reason, but..."

Martin interrupted. "Can you just leave me alone? I'm not in the mood for this. You've already won the cheese tray and watched me lose an argument with a passenger – isn't that enough for today?" He got up and left the flight deck, resulting in a moment of silence between Arthur and Douglas.

"Do you think I should..."

"No Arthur, I don't."

"Right-o. I'll go see to the passengers then."

Martin left the flight deck and walked down the aisle, glancing around for Carolyn. He was pleased when he realised she must be busy with something else. Martin stood still for a moment, realising he had to do something before the passengers started noticing and, seeing that the seat next to him was empty, the Captain dropped into it, not caring that he'd have to provide an explanation to his new neighbour in the seat next to him. He ran his fingers through his hair.

"Is this someone's seat? I'll move if it is."

"No, it's, urm, fine; it's empty."

"Thanks. I've just had such an awful day – had an argument with a passenger, caught my fingers in a door, been having my usual bad luck and I'm...I'm really missing my girlfriend." He sighed and muttered, "why am I even telling you all this?"

"Aren't you apart lots though, cos of the flying?"

"No – she's an investor in the company and the stewardess; she normally comes on flights with us."

"Oh, right. You'll see her soon though? I miss my wife, but we'll manage: we always do."

"You're married?!"

"Yes..."

"You've only just finished university and you're married?" Martin frowned. "How old are you?"

"23"

"How the hell do you marry and find the right person that young?"

"Well we'd been going out for 9 years before we got married. I'm not good with dates, but she says she's known me since she was 8, which would have made me 9 or 10 at the time."

Martin was doing some quick mental maths. "You've been together since you were 14?"

"Since I was 14, since just before my wife's 13th birthday."

Martin let his head fall into his hands. "Am I doing something wrong? Or did you just do something really right?"

"I didn't do anything – I met the right person at the right time."

"Yea, but I'm 33 and I'm in the longest relationship I've been in for about six years."

"Isn't that good?"

"Yes, yes it is." There was a minute's pause before the just-finished-being-a-student offered his hand to shake.

"I'm Joss."

"Oh, hi, urm, sorry, I'm Ca...Martin."

They smiled at each other.

"So what's your girlfriend called?"

"Irene. And your wife?"

"Estella." Joss grinned. "She'll be a bit jealous of me."

Martin frowned. "Why?"

"Well she's often wanted to meet a captain or a pilot, and here I am talking to you."

"She wants to _meet _a pilot? Why would anyone _want _to meet me?"

"I'm sure people would – Irene is obviously glad she met you."

"Hmm."

"Skip?" Joss and Martin jumped, but Arthur carried on, regardless. "What are you meant to do if you like someone and you want to show them, but you don't know if they like you too?"

Martin frowned. "I haven't the faintest idea, Arthur. Ask Douglas."

"Right-o." He left and headed for the flight deck.

After a moment, Martin sighed. "It's her birthday soon."

"What?"

"Irene's birthday; it's in two months and I don't have an ice-cube's chance in hell of finding her the right present."

Joss frowned. "What's an ice-cube doing in hell?"

Martin snorted. "Melting."

"I'm sure you'll think of something – you'd know what she'd like, and you've got ages yet..."

"I actually don't – I hardly know anything about her at all."

"You must know something; she's your girlfriend."

"She likes to sing, she grew up in America, her first kiss was with a boy called Godfrey Norton, she used to know Sherlock Holmes, she's rich, and I think she has some sort of mental deficiency that's meant she's stuck with me for so long." Martin decided it was best to omit the dominatrix bit.

...

The door to the flight deck opened.

"Douglas?"

"Oh, hello Arthur, I thought it might be our Supreme Commander returned from his wanderings."

"No, Skip's speaking to someone. He said I should ask you."

"Go on."

"What are you meant to do if you like someone and you want to let them know, but don't know if they like you back?"

"Someone caught your fancy, Arthur?"

"Well, yes, urm, I've been talking to the passengers and there's this girl, and she' really nice and pretty. She's called Patsy, and I just don't know what I should do."

"Well Arthur, you've come to the right person for advice."

"I went to Martin first," Arthur pointed out.

"And he sent you to the right person for advice. Now, it's not like you can get her flowers or anything whilst on a plane, so have you tried smiling at her a lot?"

"Oh, yes; I smile at her every time I walk past."

"And she still seems to like you?" Douglas muttered, before continuing in a louder voice "have you asked her about her interests?"

"That's a brilliant idea! Anything else I should do?"

"Stay here and play a game with me: I'm bored."

"I mean about Patsy."

"Oh, yes, well I'll think about it while we play a game."

"How about 'yellow car'?"

"That's my favourite game Arthur, it really is, and I know there's a distinct abundance of yellow cars that can be seen from the air, but how about we play something else for a change? Alphabet something?"

...

"I'm sure she'll like whatever you get her," Joss said, encouragingly.

Martin sighed, "do women still want flowers or is that old fashioned?"

Joss laughed, "mine does – she hints at it frequently because I don't buy her them often."

"Why not, if you know she likes them?"

"Because I'm not very romantic, and I think they're a bit of a waste of money, really, but she doesn't think that."

There was a brief moment of silence.

"Do people celebrate anniversaries of when they first started dating? It will be a year since we first, urm, got together, in November."

"Urm, well we did – I think other people do. Flowers would probably be better for then."

"Yeah they would..." Martin trailed off as he relaxed back into his seat: he was enjoying this.

"If you don't know, just ask."

"What?"

"If you don't know something about Irene, just ask – that's what I'd do," Joss explained.

"Yea, except I'm not you – I'm me – I always mumble my words and don't make sense and ramble on about rubbish."

"Actually, that sounds like me."

"Oh, right. Well what should I ask?" Martin asked, worriedly.

"How should I know? Ask about her hobbies or if there's something she's always wanted to do," Joss shrugged "I'm not that good with this sort of thing."

"Me neither" Martin grinned: he'd managed to find someone who was apparently almost as awkward and clueless as he was, and he was married: Martin wasn't completely without hope.

...

"Hello. Again."

Patsy looked up from her book. "Hello Arthur, you alright?"

"Yea. I was just wondering...what are you interests?" Arthur was careful to phrase it in the same way Douglas had.

"My hobbies? Well I like watching films, I like cooking, I like playing games."

"Oh great, shall we play a game now?"

"Okay." Patsy smiled

"How about a game of charades?"

"I'm not very good at that, can we play cards instead?"

"Urm I don't know how to play cards."

"Do you know how to play snap?"

"Oh yea, snap's brilliant."

"We'll play snap then."

"Just the two of us?"

"We can ask someone else if you want."

"No, no I meant I want just the two of us."

"Okay, that's fine." They smiled at each other.

...

"When did you realised you loved her?"

"Hmmm?"

"Estella, your wife."

"Oh right. I don't know - she said it first and I sort of went along with it and it went from there. You can't truly be in love at the ages of 13 and 14 but I think we were close enough. We love each other more now we understand and know each other better."

"I think I love Irene, but I don't know, I mean, I care for her and miss her when she's not there, and want her near me and get quite defensive over her...is that love?"

Joss chuckled. "Probably, or will be soon."

"What should I do? Should I tell her?"

"Martin, stop asking me - I really don't know - you've got to decide for yourself." Martin sighed.

...

"Snap!" Called Arthur triumphantly, earning a few glares from some of the other passengers.

"Well done, you win." Patsy smiled and Arthur grinned back, but his expression fell as one of the other passengers rang his service bell.

"I'll be right back."

...

_Bing bong._ "This is First Officer Douglas Richardson speaking, wondering if Captain Crieff would please return to the flight deck at some point before we have to land. Thank you."

Martin stood up "yes, right, urm..."

"Nice to meet you?"

"Yes, and urm..."

"See you later?"

"Yes."

After a moment, Joss smiled, indicating the flight deck with a nod of his head, and Martin left.  
Douglas turned round as Martin entered.

"Ah, Sir has returned from his wanderings, and wishes to grace us with his presence once more."

"Very funny Douglas."

"Oh did you think so?"

"Want to play a game of cards before we have to land?"

"Martin, are you trying to change the subject?"

"No...well, yes. Let's leave it at that."

"As Sir commands."

Martin took out the pack of cards and started shuffling "chase the ace?"

"Sounds good..."

"But no betting" interrupted Martin.

"If you're sure..."

"Positive, thank you."

The door opened and Douglas looked up. "Ah, Arthur. Want to play?"

"No thanks Douglas, I was wondering if you'd come up with any more ideas?"

"Oh yes." He pulled a packet of love hearts out of his pocket and threw them to Arthur, who only just managed to catch them, despite his apple tossing skills.

"Why do you have love hearts, and why are you giving them to Arthur? Did I miss something?"

"To help him woo his fair maiden."

"Arthur? Wooing?" Asked Martin, disbelieving.

"Well his version of it anyway." Douglas turned to Arthur. "Just say to her that you had a packet of love hearts and thought she might like them or something, then you can give them to her."

"Right. Okay" Arthur replied, trying to memorise what Douglas had just said, as he left the flight deck.

He walked past Patsy. "Hi, urm, again. I was wondering if you'd like my packet of love hearts, because well, I had them and they made me think of you." If it was possible for Arthur to be shy, he was then, as he offered the love hearts.

Patsy smiled "thank you Arthur, that's really nice of you. Want another game of snap before we land?"

"Oh yes!" Arthur nodded enthusiastically.

...

The time in Amsterdam and the flight back to Manchester went well. Arthur and Patsy exchanged mobile numbers so they could stay friends, and Martin timidly suggested the same to Joss.

"It's just that, well I don't really have friends apart from Arthur and Douglas and, oh never mind, forget it." Joss smiled and scribbled his number on a piece of paper, handing it to Martin.

"It was nice meeting you - give us a call if you're ever up in the north-west."

Martin smiled, pleased he seemed to have made and kept a friend through nothing other than his own merits. "I will."

When they arrived back in Fitton, Martin was so happy when he saw Irene at the airport to pick him up, that, when he reached her, he carefully put down (this is Martin, remember) his bag and pulled her into a tight hug.

Douglas and Carolyn exchanged looks, noticing that something subtle had changed in Martin. He was now talking animatedly to Irene, asking her question after question, making her laugh and stealing kisses in between words. Martin looked happier and more carefree than Douglas or Carolyn could remember, and though he somehow managed to look nervous at the same time, they just chalked that up to Martin's usual nervousness.

...

A couple of months later, Joss received a text:

_We went to Egypt for Irene's birthday, and I bought her a tiny black kitten. She called him Lockie. Thank you for your help and advice. Martin_

He smiled before replying:

_I'm glad you worked something out. Estella was jealous I met you. Now she's jealous about the kitten! Joss_

...

**I had a prompt to use the word curmudgeon from patemalah21, and I thought it basically defines Carolyn, more or less. Well at least,**_** I**_** thought so.**

**I also made characters for the lovely patemalah21 and The Auburn Time Lord, so I hope you liked your characters you two. The young married couple (though you only meet one of them) are based on a couple I know.**

**Thanks to Basementfullofbandmembers, who helped with the whole typing it up issue **

**As always, I'd love a review or two – it would brighten up my day **


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